Before It's Too Late
by B0gw0ppit
Summary: David Hodges was straight, completely, absolutely, definitely straight... wasn't he? Hodges/Sanders
1. Before It's Too Late

Title: Before It's too Late - Reposted

Author: B0gw0ppit

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my dog, my VW and my dreams, although Hodges does feature in them quite a lot... the dreams that is, not the VW, although that would be nice too...

Warning: In later chapters this gets major angsty, with reference to homophobia, violence and death, so if you are offended by such things please do not read, or only read up to the chapters with the warnings on. Thanks.

Author's note: I had intended for this to be a one shot, but I quite like it now, so I'm going to carry on. I don't usually write slash but Hodges and Sanders inspire me. No spoilers yet, no reference to any particular episode, although there may be in later chapters. I haven't seen every single episode though, so if for instance Hodges' parents are both still alive and well and living on a farm in Oregon with a dog called Bo forgive me.

I have taken the alternate ending down now that I wrote, because I was inspired to write more and the story completely got away from me! If anyone wants to read the alternate, happier ending to the first chapter visit my website, the link to which is in my profile.

_And the risk that might break you  
Is the one that would save  
A life you don't live is still lost  
So stand on the edge with me  
Hold back your fear and see  
Nothing is real til it's gone_

_So live like you mean it  
Love til you feel it  
It's all that we need in our lives  
So stand on the edge with me  
Hold back your fear and see  
Nothing is real til it's gone _

_ Before It's Too Late by the Goo Goo Dolls_

_ ---------------------------------------------- _

David Hodges was straight. He knew he was straight, because he liked women. He liked looking at women in short skirts, he had been to strip clubs, bought magazines; he had even been on a few internet sites before he started getting pervy emails and deleted everything. He liked having sex with women, he had had relationships with women, he had _married_ a woman.

So why then did he keep finding himself watching Greg Sanders? Every time the boy walked into a room Hodges would know he was there, even if he had his back to him, like some kind of weird sixth sense. Sometimes in the locker room he would find himself watching Greg's smooth, hairless chest as the young man changed his shirt, and he would tear his gaze away quickly before anyone could catch him looking. Greg's beatific smile lifted even the most morbid of Hodges' moods, though he had to pretend the boy just annoyed him, and lately he had found himself hoping that their shifts would fall the same, that the latest case would have trace to analyze, that Greg would be the one to bring it to him. When had all this begun? He didn't know, neither would he admit that anything _had_ begun, even to himself.

He had never had feelings for another man, and he wasn't about to start now. Just because Greg had started to feature in some of Hodges' more erotic dreams didn't mean he was gay. He wasn't. He was straight, always had been, always would be. He told himself that Greg was just a nice guy, despite being damned irritating at times, the best of a bunch of assholes, the only one who seemed to appreciate Hodges' brilliance, perhaps because Greg had once been a lab rat himself. Birds of a feather and all that.

Maybe the lonely nights and endless days had finally gotten to him. Maybe it was because the anniversary of his divorce was coming up and he hadn't gotten laid since leaving LA. Maybe it was because he had finally realized that all women were bitches after Sara had so coldly turned down his attempt at friendship, a last ditch shot at fitting in here, being normal. Whatever it was something had died deep inside of him, and he knew without a doubt that he was destined to spend the rest of his life alone. Maybe that was why he looked at Greg, the boy was so _alive_, always happy, always upbeat, always optimistic, everything, in fact, that Hodges was not.

He hated birthdays, and he especially hated _his_ birthday. It was just a day, that's all, just another day in the endless drudgery of life, a reminder of all the rest of the days and years that he would have to go through alone before he could find some blessed release. So he didn't appreciate it one little bit when Wendy announced that they were all coming over to his place to throw him a party. How the hell had she, Mandy, Greg, Nick, Archie and Bobby all managed to get the night off at the same time? And how the hell had that night just happened to coincide with his birthday and his own night off? He smelled a rat, but Grissom was as enigmatic as ever when he tackled him about it, and he didn't catch the look of gratitude that Greg threw the boss as he left the break room.

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And so here they all were in his tiny, bare apartment devoid of any and all adornment. He had never felt the need for _stuff_, and as a result his place looked about as welcoming as the morgue. Still, he didn't care, it wasn't as though he had invited them. They could take it or leave it, and he sure as hell would have preferred if they had left it. He took a swig of the beer Nick had thrust into his hand and scowled around the room. Greg had brought music, if you could call that cacophony music, Nick had brought Dukes of Hazard for the X-Box and was firmly trouncing Archie at it, Bobby had brought beer, and the girls were sharing a bottle of red as they giggled about some new guy at work together.

As he looked around at the motley collection of people, wondering why the hell they were all here when they didn't even like him, he felt eyes on him, and he turned his head to see Greg leaning in the kitchen doorway, watching him. As their gazes met the younger man smiled, and raised his bottle toward the tech.

"Happy birthday," he mouthed, smiling, but not even attempting to speak over the music.

Hodges narrowed his eyes at the boy, wondering not for the first time whether Greg was the one behind all this. He was forever trying to bring him out of himself, getting him to join in stuff, and refused to ever be put off by Hodges obvious snarks and put-downs. What did he want from him?

"Hey Hodges, c'mon, have a go at this, it's cool," Bobby called from his place four inches away from the TV screen.

Hodges was having a hard time pulling his gaze away from Greg's, those deep brown eyes seeming to hold him in an invisible force field, and the sound of the young tech's voice made him jump. He blinked and looked over at the couch where Wendy and Mandy were still giggling together, and kept throwing glances his way. No doubt they were having some sort of giant joke at his expense, all of them. Probably just wanted to come over so that they could report back to the other guys in the lab what a freak he was even in the comfort of his own home. Although comfort was relative. The only comfortable thing here was the couch. Why _were_they all here? It wasn't as if they even liked him. He sighed, and dragged his feet across to the couch where he sat, half-heartedly trying to look as though he was enjoying himself, when all he wanted was for everyone to go home and leave him alone. When had he gotten so old, so bitter?

As the evening wore on Hodges noticed that Greg was drinking rather a lot, then again, so was everyone, himself included. If he couldn't beat them, preferably over their heads with his 'scope... then again no, his 'scope was worth too much... he supposed he would have to join them, and was well into his fifth can, or was it the sixth? He didn't drink much, didn't like the thought of losing control, but damn it, it was his birthday, and he couldn't keep up this untouchable shield of indifference all the time. At some point he remembered feeling a pang of jealousy stab through him like a knife when he saw Greg and Nick huddled in a corner together, but even as he watched they both threw him a surreptitious look over their shoulders, and he looked away quickly before they could see he had seen them.

And then suddenly they were leaving, and he groggily endured insincere hugs and best wishes as they all filed out of the door. Nick was the last to go, and clapped him on the shoulder, almost knocking him over as he grinned at him. That man did not know his own strength.

"Hey man, hope it all works out for you, you know?" the Texan drawled in that awkward, restrained, good ol' buddy way of his.

The habitual frown Hodges wore deepened as the words sank in to his foggy brain, and he opened his mouth to ask what the hell Stokes was talking about. But it was too late, the man was gone, and Hodges was left alone with his thoughts once more.

Or almost alone.

As he closed the door he had a sinking feeling of dread and fluttering anticipation that he wasn't alone, and even before he turned he knew that Greg was there.

For the longest time he stood by the door, looking, just looking, at the boyish figure on the couch. Greg slept like a toddler, elbows bent at shoulder height and hands clenched in loose fists beside his head, a small smile on his face, long lashes sweeping down across high cheekbones, tight black shirt stretching over wiry frame, pulled up to show a tantalizing glimpse of pale, taut stomach, a trail of fine brown hair leading down to... Hodges blinked, frowned, and pulled himself together. He must have had more to drink than he realized, either that or the double shifts he had been pulling had finally caught up with him and he was so tired he had started to drift off into waking dreams... dreams that did not involve Greg Sanders in any way shape or form. He would wake him up, yes, that's what he would do, shake him awake and tell him to leave, because the last thing he wanted was to have to face him in the morning, to have Greg asleep here while he tried to sleep in his big, cold, empty bed alone. Not that he wanted Greg to share his bed with him, that would be stupid, Hodges was straight, and if he stopped to think about it he could swear that Greg and Nick had a thing going on. Not that it was any of his business, not that he did ever think about it. But... anyway, he would wake him up. He wouldn't even touch him, he would call him from here.

But inexorably his feet were taking him across the carpet to where the boy lay, and his hand reached out of its own accord to touch the pale cheek with shaking fingers. Hodges watched himself doing this from somewhere up above, he asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing, but he couldn't stop doing it all the same. The younger man's skin was so smooth... and he looked so peaceful lying there...

Suddenly a hand flew down to grab his wrist in a vice like grip, and smoldering brown eyes were gazing calmly up into his own frightened blue-green orbs. Hodges jerked his hand back, but Greg was surprisingly strong, and he was held firm.

"What are you doing David?" the younger man asked softly, the small secret smile still playing around his lips.

"Nothing! I was..." Hodges stuttered, horrified at being caught out, then he stiffened as his defense mechanism kicked in. "I was trying to wake you up, you idiot. What the hell did you _think_ I was doing? Get off me!"

He yanked his hand back once more, but still Greg held it tightly, practically cutting off the blood supply to his hand. Hodges frowned, then stilled, drawn in by those big brown eyes that held his so intently. This was... wrong. He was straight, he shouldn't even be thinking the thoughts he was thinking about those eyes that seemed to look down into his very soul, those lips and what it would be like to kiss them... He was straight. And not only was he straight but he was terrified of letting anyone know his feelings, terrified of the hurt, terrified of the laughter, terrified of letting anyone in only to be let down yet again. And this was... this was _Greg_, from work, whom he would have to face every day, who would go back and tell everyone just what an gullible jerk Hodges was, how he had made a pass at him when he was drunk, how he was a fag as well as a kiss-ass geek that no one in their right mind would ever want to be with. No, no, he wasn't gay, he was straight. He liked women, he liked breasts and he liked legs in stockings and he liked long hair and soft hands...

"Kiss me David," Greg requested, confident and gentle, relaxing his grip on the older man's wrist just enough to restore the blood supply.

He should have taken the opportunity to move, to escape, to make everything go back to normal, the way it should be, before it was too late. But that second's hesitation changed everything, forever. While his rational mind was screaming at him to get up, to pull away, to get out while he still could, a tiny part of it, impossible to ignore, was protesting, was saying yes, kiss him, it's what you want, you know it is. He shook his head helplessly, barely a movement at all, but still he didn't move away. He was ensnared in that dark brown gaze which held him so effortlessly in its thrall. Maybe, just maybe he could... just this once, just to see what it would be like...

"It's alright David, you can trust me..." Greg coaxed, knowing some of what his co-worker and friend had been through, the walls he had put up to protect himself from the pain, wanting to reassure him that he understood.

Greg was more nervous than he looked. Confident as he was he still wasn't sure about David Hodges. Despite the looks and the smiles and the teasing that went on between them, despite Nick's assurances that his suspicions were correct and Hodges _did_ like him that way, he still wasn't sure, and he didn't want this to go wrong. He cared too much.

Hodges froze, all of his unhappy past rushing up to meet him head on. Trust him...

He had heard that before... Trust, he had trusted his ex-wife, he had trusted his former best friend, and then he had found them together when he came home early from work one day. He had trusted his parents to always be there for him, and they had both left him, one to a better life with a new boyfriend who didn't want the responsibility of kids, the other as a result of too many years smoking and a lump in his throat that just wouldn't get better; not that he had ever really been there for his son. Mr Hodges was always far too hung up on Mrs Hodges to care whether the child they had created together was spending his school days getting beaten up for his lunch money. He had trusted Nancy Jenkins when she had assured him that she loved him, even when deep down he knew that she was the most popular girl in class and there was no way she would look twice at a geek like him. Yeah he had trusted her, and he had suffered the laughter and derision from his class mates when he had tried to talk to her in public one day only to have her look at him the way she would look at a cockroach, to have her tell him that of course it had just been a bet to see if he would fall for it. That had been the worst blow of all, the first cut was always the deepest, and it had shaped him, along with the many other disappointments he had endured, into the cynical, defensive, antisocial, falsely arrogant bastard he was today. If you didn't allow yourself to care or be cared for you didn't get hurt, and that was the philosophy David Hodges lived by. There were only so many times you could bounce back, and he had run out of bounce at last the day his wife had left him for his best friend.

Every defensive bone in his body was now screaming at him to run, to get away, that this was a giant wind-up just like before, all those years ago. A bet, it had to be a bet, probably instigated by that cold bitch Sara, a bet that Greg wouldn't have been able to resist. Tomorrow everyone at work would know how he, Hodges, had made a complete idiot of himself, thinking a guy like Greg Sanders would be interested in someone like him. That was where trust got you... it got you hurt, and he refused to be hurt ever again.

"Get the fuck out of here!" he whispered hoarsely, breathing hard, his husky tone rising slowly to hysteria. "What the fuck do you think I am Sanders? Why the hell would you do this? What sort of sick joke... Just... just get out!"

For a moment Greg thought he may have misjudged the situation, misread the looks he sometimes caught Hodges giving him, the smile that seemed to be meant only for him, the sarcastic comments that somehow seemed to be meant as endearments, so venomous was Hodges' quiet outrage, worse than any yelling and screaming and lashing out with fists would have been. There was sheer panic in his eyes, in the tension of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, panic and hatred and blind fury.

But then he saw something else in those eyes, and he knew. Just for one split second as Hodges raged, his furious gaze had dropped to Greg's mouth, and the panic had been replaced by... What? A hopeless, helpless desperation, a tiny flicker of longing in the desolation of his soul, before disappearing as though it had never been. But Greg had seen it. He had been right, he had known, even before Hodges knew himself. The younger man, wise beyond his years, had recognized something in the shell that was David Hodges, something crying out for help.

"David, please..." he whispered, reaching out his free hand to try to touch his cheek, but Hodges jerked his head to one side, practically hyperventilating in his panicked state.

Greg didn't know how to get past this. For all his wisdom he was still only young, and he had never encountered such a reticent, angry man as Hodges, one with so many unresolved anxieties, a man who seemed to fight against his very instincts, even though it hurt him all the more. How could he get through to him? How could he reassure him that he was sincere, that he would never intentionally hurt him? For a long time he had wanted this moody, cantankerous, sarcastic man. Hodges was wrong, there was nothing going on between him and Nick, nothing but a friendship born out of too many late nights and early mornings working cases that would have had them in straight jackets if they hadn't learned to laugh about them. Nick was gorgeous, sure, but he was also completely straight, and in a very stable relationship with a beautiful girl whom Greg liked a lot. And Nick had been there for him on all those long nights when his longing for the snarky lab rat had gotten too much for him. Nick had listened, without making a judgment, giving advice only when it was asked for. It had been Nick who had told him to go with his instincts, to let Hodges know how he felt, to not let the chance pass them by. This man, this uptight, repressed man looking so scared right now before him, was the only one he wanted. How and when it had started he had no idea, he only knew that the one night stands had gradually fizzled to nothing, that work had taken priority, and that he had begun to spend far too much time in the labs for a CSI, almost more than he had when he had actually worked there. He licked his dry lips as still he hung onto the man's wrist as though his life depended on it, and maybe it did.

Hodges' had never felt such an inner conflict, instinct fighting instinct, heart fighting soul, rational fighting longing. He wanted to trust him, oh he wanted to so much, but... he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He was too far gone, had been through too much. People couldn't be trusted, and loving someone hurt too much.

Slowly he shook his head, at last sliding his wrist out of the young man's loosened grasp. This time Greg didn't stop him, and Hodges rose to his feet.

"Go home Greg," he said softly, unable to meet the other's gaze.

Greg paused for the longest time, afraid to go, afraid to stay. But finally after what seemed like a life time he got to his feet, all the while pleading silently with his eyes for Hodges to speak again, to tell him he didn't mean it. But the older man did not speak, and with dragging steps Greg walked out of the apartment, closing the door softly behind him as he mentally kicked himself for fucking it up.

He didn't hear the desolate sound which escaped Hodges' lips as the door clicked closed, and he didn't see the lab rat sink slowly to the floor, head in his hands, cursing his stupidity.

Why couldn't he let go of the past? Why couldn't he trust Greg? The boy had never hurt him, never would, he knew. David Hodges silently cried, for all the missed opportunities, for all the unvoiced sentiments, for all the wasted years and the self-denial... and he wished that Greg would come back.

David Hodges was straight... So why was he in love with Greg Sanders?


	2. Stigmatized

Title: Before It's Too Late - Chapter 2 - Stigmatized

Author: B0gw0ppit

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my dreams, my dog, and my VW camper

Author's note: Thanks to Darkhorse for the lovely review, even though it doesn't show up now because I've reposted the story! Like I said, this was originally a one shot which I have been asked to carry on, so a couple of the points of the first chapter might not quite gel, although I have tried to keep it straight in my head as much as anything in my head is!

_If I give up on you I give up on me  
If we fight what's true, will we ever be  
Even God himself and the faith I knew  
Shouldn't hold me back, shouldn't keep me from you  
I believe in you, even if no one understands  
I Believe in you, and I don't really give a damn _

_ Stigmatized by The Calling_

_---------------------------------------------------- _

"He's not gay."

Greg was slumping on a bench in the locker room, one hand by his side picking at imaginary pieces of something on the perfectly clean surface. his face was a picture of ten year old sulkiness as he pouted. Nick looked round from his locker where he was hanging his leather jacket. The expression on his face was one of incredulity.

"What?" he asked, although he had heard perfectly well what his friend had said.

Greg looked up from his very important pastime to sigh, exasperated at the older man.

"He's. Not. Gay," he repeated carefully, raising his eyebrows and pulling a face at the end.

He went back to picking and studying the bench, while Nick pulled off his t-shirt to replace it with a more CSI-friendly button-up. He retrieved an apple from the shelf and closed his locker door thoughtfully, the cogs of his mind turning all the while as he thought about this latest revelation.

"Yes he is," he said at last, causing Greg to look up once more, fixing him with an evil glare.

"He's not."

"Is."

Not."

"Is."

"No... oh for... I practically threw myself at him last night and he didn't want to know," the young man admitted, his usually endless patience for juvenile games wearing thin at last.

Nick paused, about to take a bite out of his lunch, and looked up at Greg from beneath dark brows, mouth half open.

"Really?"

"Yes _really_," came the sarcastic reply.

Nick was silent for a very long time, to the point where Greg thought perhaps he hadn't fully understood what Greg was saying. Nick Stokes was after all just a good ol' Southern boy, with not a lot of grasp on the finer points of human nature. Truth be told, Greg was embarrassed by what had happened the night before, and he wanted -_needed_ - reassurance that he hadn't been a complete asshole and completely alienated the trace tech forever by his actions.

For most of the night after Hodges had kicked him out he had walked the streets, sober now, hands in pockets and head held low, staring at the sidewalk and wondering what had gone wrong. He had been so_sure_... And now he had ruined everything and Hodges would never even want to be in the same _room_ as him, let alone any closer. And that was the last thing he wanted. All this time, as he was gradually coming to realise what he felt for the man, he had been so careful not to step out of line, not to scare him away, because he could live with just being friends. Friends was better than nothing, but now he had lost even that.

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Meanwhile, down in the trace lab, Hodges was having an even worse day than the young CSI. He hadn't slept at all, tossing and turning the whole night wondering what would have happened if he had let Greg stay. He was scared, more scared than he had ever been in his whole life, more even than when he had gotten married, and that had been terrifying. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't see a way out of this latest mess. He was _not_ gay. He could _not_ be in love with Greg Sanders. He did _not_ do unexpected things. He was reliable, steady, boring... _Straight_. But whatever he told himself, his mind kept on replaying the events of the night before, changing the ending slightly every time so that eventually he had to go to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face.

And there was something else too. A tiny flicker of a thought or some forgotten memory that wouldn't quite surface. No matter how hard he thought about it he couldn't grasp it, and eventually he had to let it go because his head was threatening to explode. He did know that whatever it was he was petrified of it, and no matter how unexpected Greg's pass at him may have been it didn't warrant this level of fear.

The place on his wrist where Greg's fingers had lay burned as though he still held it, and every so often Hodges would frown down at it as though expecting to see the long, slender fingers still wrapped around him, almost surprised when there was nothing there. He couldn't concentrate, and twice had to redo tests because he botched the results. That was unheard of - David Hodges didn't _make_ mistakes. It had to be bad.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Don't give up on him man."

The soft voice broke Greg from his reverie, and he looked up, surprised to see Nick sitting beside him with a small, almost tender smile on his face. Nick leaned forward and licked his lips, as though preparing to make an earth-shattering speech.

"He's scared is all," he continued quietly, pausing to think about how he would word the next bit. "Look, I... don't take this the wrong way but... I tried to put myself in his place ok? When you first told me, I tried to think what I would feel like if I were him, if I had been straight my whole life and suddenly found myself... attracted to a guy... I think I might kill myself."

He said this last so bluntly, so matter of factly, that Greg did a double take before staring at him open mouthed.

"Maybe..." Nick continued, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the one-sided conversation was taking, "maybe you uhm... look man, you're my best friend ok? But sometimes you can be a bit... full on."

He saw Greg take a breath to speak, and hurried on, holding his hand up placatingly.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you are," he rushed on, "it's great. I wish I had your energy. But... well, maybe you should take it a bit slower...? Hodges isn't exactly Mr Sponteneous after all..."

Greg was silent for a minute, then he began to laugh, a couple of small smiling breaths out for starters, shaking his head slowly, then a snigger, then a full-bodied laugh. Nick looked at him incredulously, a bemused look on his face, until Greg stopped, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Mr Sponteneous..." he repeated, still grinning. "Aw man, you should have seen his face when I asked him to kiss me..."

Nick smiled, then grinned, and soon both men were laughing together, Greg gripping his side as he got a stitch.

Neither of them saw a certain trace tech walk by, but he certainly saw them. He paused for a second in the doorway, a world of pain in his ocean-colored eyes evident before they went dull, dull and blank. He shouldn't really be surprised, he had known after all that it had to be some great big cosmic joke. But that hadn't stopped the feeling of being kicked in the gut when he saw them laughing, laughing at him.


	3. Cold Water

**Cold Water**

Title: Before It's Too Late - Chapter 3 - Cold Water

Author: B0gw0ppit

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my dreams, my dog, and my VW camper

Warning: Do NOT read if any form of homosexual abuse/phobia/prejudice offends you.

Author's Note: Ok, this chapter turned very dark about halfway through. I didn't mean for it to get that bad but the words just came out as they tend to do. Also, I _think_ I've got the education system right, but I have not been to the US so please let me know if it's wrong. Similarly with the terrain and indiginous species of California. I know it's mostly desert but Google Maps tells me there _are_ forests and lakes!

_Cold cold water surrounds me now_

_And all I've got is your hand_

_Lord can you hear me now_

_Lord can you hear me now_

_Lord can you hear me now_

_Or am I lost? ~_

_~ Cold Water by Damien Rice_

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Hodges was in trace as usual. He had found himself there a lot just lately, not that he was avoiding going out into the big world of the rest of the crime lab, it was just that he was really busy, had a lot of stuff to catch up on. He didn't really like the break room anyway, full of nasty germs and the smell of coffee and _people_... Yes, full of people... people who laughed at him. They all must know by now, all must have shared the great big fat joke that was David Hodges and his pathetic belief that someone might like him. No doubt Sanders took great pleasure in relating how he had almost fallen for his trick, how he had almost kissed him, how he had carressed his cheek like some cheesy romantic love story. Well thank God he hadn't fallen for it, thank God he had come to his senses in time and told the little punk to go, or the laughter and derision might have been even louder. It might even have gotten a lot _worse_ than laughter and derision, just like before...

He hadn't thought about that day for years, had thought it forgotten, well and truly buried in his dim and distant past, but now it had come back to haunt him. Every night for a week, since that damn party at his place he had had the same nightmare, and it was beginning to show in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the paleness of his complexion.

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Hodges didn't have many friends at school - typical reasons mostly - he was bright, very bright, and he enjoyed learning, especially about science. Anything that explained in cold hard facts why we were here and where we were going and Hodges was happy. He was a skinny kid, pale, and with no co-ordination, which made for disasterous gym classes and anything to do with sports was definitely out. Added to this the fact that he was painfully shy, and David Hodges did not make for a very popular kid. He was bullied, but only the usual stuff, in that he never seemed to have any lunch money or any lunch for that matter, and once they stole his shoes too - new sneakers that his mom had saved up for weeks to get him for his fourteenth birthday. But it wasn't too bad, nothing he couldn't live with if he withdrew and immersed himself even further into his books.

And then along came Calvin. It was the summer of his first year in High School, and Hodges was having a hard time adjusting to the new demands made on him. Not educationally, that was a piece of cake, but socially. There were bigger boys here, and they played rougher games. His mom had just left too, moved to Denver with her new boyfriend, one of his father's work mates, and there wasn't room in her new life for a teenage boy with an 'attitude problem' as the new guy put it. David thought he was entitled to have an attitude when this sleaze bag was taking his mom away, leaving his dad a broken man.

Calvin was new to the area, and from the moment he walked into the classroom, golden hair like a halo around his head, soulful brown eyes that always seemed to be glinting with some kind of mischief, Hodges was lost. The boy radiated charm, always happy, always planning some new and exciting adventure, and soon he had won over the hearts of all who came into contact with him, including the school bullies, which was good for Hodges. The thing Hodges would never understand though was why Calvin picked _him_ to be his best friend. He had boys and girls alike flocking to spend time with him, and he chose to spend his time with Hodges, which Hodges chose not to question. He merely basked in the reflected glory for the short while it lasted.

Calvin, it turned out, was fascinated by science and the way things worked, but he was no good at it. He was far to busy making up new ways to spend the long summer days, or reciting poetry in his back yard while swinging upside down from a tree, or making Hodges dress up in his mother's curtains to perform in some weird and wonderful play Calvin had made up. Hodges didn't care what they did, as long as they did it together, and although he didn't have an artistic bone in his body he would have followed Calvin to the ends of the earth. He didn't mind helping Calvin out with his Chemistry homework either, because he loved the way Calvin's face would light up in a sparkling smile whenever he caught on to something Hodges was trying to teach him. That summer was the best of Hodges' short life, and so when Calvin suggested going skinny-dipping in the lake down in the field behind his house he went without hesitation.

Hodges was a little self-conscious about his lack of development and pale flesh which rarely saw the sun, but Calvin had no such hang-ups, and shed his own clothes without hesitation. David tried not to stare as the lithe, tanned figure leaped into the water, yelling at the cold. To David he was perfect, although looking back now he had just been another skinny kid, maybe better developed than Hodges, maybe fitter from all the energy he burned off, maybe more tanned from being outside and not stuck in his room with a book 24/7, but just a kid nonetheless. David didn't want to seem sissy, so he peeled off his t-shirt with his back to the water, followed by his pants and shorts at record pace so that he could slide into the water unseen. He didn't notice Calvin watching him, not really, and soon the bigger boy was splashing him with cold water and jumping up to duck him under.

They had fun that day, more fun than Hodges could ever remember having before or since, and by the time they got out and collapsed on the bank, exhausted, David was no longer self-conscious. He lay on his back with his eyes closed, laughing, and when he felt cold fingers tentatively entwine with his he didn't flinch, although his heart started thudding so hard in his chest he could see it. he opened his eyes and tilted his head to the side, to see Calvin, the golden God, _his_ golden God, watching him intently. David swallowed, and smiled, and he watched Calvin's mouth as it slowly, oh-so-slowly, descended upon his. He kept his eyes open, through shock or through wanting to see Calvin's beautiful long dark lashes flutter on his high cheekbones, and he kissed him back.

Neither of them saw the three boys who were hunting Kingsnakes in the forest that bordered the lake, nor did they see them sneak up to the edge and hide behind a fallen tree to watch them. But they did hear them when they began to throw insults at them, and they did see them when they came running out of the trees toward them; and they did feel their fists as they began to beat them, all the while screaming _'fag' _and _'queer'_ and _'maric__ó__n'_,telling them that one of their assailants was José Fernandez, the Mexican kid who's gang was responsible for most of Hodges' missing lunch money, and who was currently wearing his sneakers.

Hodges curled up into a tight ball, fists clenched over his head, and tried to deflect the worst of the blows. This was worse than any bullying he had experienced, this was an attack full of rage and hate, and he was terrified. He could hear his blood pounding in his head, hear the rapid _thud-thump_ of his heart as he tried to curl up into an even smaller target. But it was no use, he was pummled, kicked and punched until he thought he was going to die. And all he could hear was the cries of his friend as he suffered the same fate beside him, and all he could think was that he was useless, that he could nothing to help him. He felt a vicious blow to the side of his head, and a flash of white light momentarily blinded him. He felt himself blacking out, but refused to drift into the darkness that awaited him, instead rolling over, away from the blows that rained down, until miraculously they stopped. He thanked God and whatever other deity might be looking out for him, silently murmuring over and over again, _I'm sorry I'm sorry... _until he realised the reason he had gotten a reprieve. He blinked blood out of his eyes and looked up with blurred vision to see Calvin, a bloody mess but still struggling, being hurled into the lake. Hodges tried to yell at them to stop, but nothing would come out, it was as though he was paralyzed by fear, incapable of moving or speaking to help his friend, and something died inside him as he realized he was a coward.

The three boys stood at the side of the lake laughing and pointing as Calvin screamed, plunging into the water that so recently been his playground... and then they fell silent. David tried to see what had happened, but he still could not move, and when Fernandez turned to look at him with wide eyes he froze, unwilling to invite further attention. And then they were gone, and he was alone. Finally he could allow the welcoming darkness to envelope him, and as he sank into blessed black all he kept thinking was,_ but you were his friend... you liked him... _everyone_ liked him..._

---------------------------------------------

Hours later - it must have been hours because the sun was going down and there was a chill to the air that had goose bumps partying on David Hodges' naked body. He was shivering as he awoke to the sound of voices, and felt something soft and heavy being draped around his bruised shoulders. Squinting and flinching in pain as a million hurts erupted all over his body he tried to sit up, only to have a gentle hand on his arm keeping him where he was.

"You don't wanna see, son," came a calm, dark brown voice. "You just stay there for a little while."

The next time he awoke he was in a bright white bed surrounded by bright white walls, wearing bright white bandages and with a bright white cast on his arm. There was even a bright white nurse with a bright white smile who busied herself taking his pulse as soon as his eyes opened. He had a headache, and couldn't remember a thing, but he knew he hurt, a lot.

"Ok sweetie," the nurse was even _speaking _ brightly, and he flinched again against the glare of her voice in his aching head. "There's a gentleman outside who would really like to talk to ya about what happened. Ya think ya can see him?"

David nodded stiffly, trying to speak, but his voice was just a whispered croak and the nurse had swept away before he could make a sound. Then the door opened, and instead of a bright white nurse, there stood a dull dark police officer. David's heart once more began to _thud thump_ painfully against his cracked ribs.


	4. The Saddest Song

Title: Before It's Too Late - Chapter 4 - The Saddest Song

Author: B0gw0ppit

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my dreams, my dog, and my VW camper

Warning: Character death and homophobic issues

Author's Note: That last chapter just came out of nowhere. I hadn't intended to go into that much detail, but it wrote itself so I owed it to... it... to put it in, if that makes sense! This one isn't much better actually! Not much happens, but I think it's necessary.

_Now there's no sense in seeing  
The colors of the morning  
Can't hold the clouds at bay  
Chase them all away  
Chase them all away  
And I'm frozen still  
Unspoken still  
Heartbroken  
Remembering something I forgot  
Something I forgot _

_ The Saddest Song I've Got by_ _Annie Lennox_

_---------------------------------------------------_

"Hodges... _Hodges!_"

The trace tech blinked, all too aware that he was blinking back tears, and looked up from his unwelcome memories to see Greg standing in the doorway. Immediately the mask came down, but not before the CSI had caught a glimpse of the despair that lay beneath, and Hodges swung away from him to study a very important... empty coffee cup that was the only thing gracing his desk right now.

"What do you want Sanders?" came the irritated voice that was becoming all too familiar lately.

Greg sighed. He missed the old Hodges; he missed the friendly banter that used to pass between them, and the little looks he used to catch the older man giving him when he thought no one was looking; he missed the beautiful smile that used to grace Hodges' face whenever Greg came into the room, and he missed the way the two of them always used to 'accidentally' take their breaks together. He missed his friend, and it was all his fault.

"Are you ok?" he asked tentatively, taking a small step into the room. He could see the tension in Hodges' shoulders, and all he wanted to do was soothe it away.

"I'm fine, why shouldn't I be?" Hodges snapped, then swung round to face him, the mask firmly in place now. "Was there something you wanted or are you just taking up floor space?"

Greg's face fell in the absence of all hope, and he wracked his brain for some reason for his being here, when in truth he had just been walking past and seen the look on Hodges' face.

"I... just wondered if..." Nothing ventured nothing gained. "I wondered if you wanted to catch that new movie after work? The one you said you wanted to see... ages ago..."

He trailed off, knowing it wasn't going to work, whatever Nick said. The movie was still showing, true enough, but it had been weeks ago that Hodges had mentioned it, and so much had happened since then, not least the fact that he and Hodges no longer seemed to be on speaking terms. There was no way. He heard Hodges laugh bitterly, and raised forlorn brown eyes to look at the man who tormented his every waking thought.

"No, I don't think so Greg," Hodges commented darkly, although for a moment Greg thought he saw a flash of... something in his eyes, something akin to realization.

"Oh, ok," was all he could think of to say, and hesitated for a minute, before turning on his heel and slouching away.

Hodges stared after him for an age, long after Greg's lanky form had disappeared around the corner, shock at last registering in his formerly blank gaze. For a minute there, just for a minute, when Greg made those puppy-dog sad eyes at him, the young CSI had reminded David of someone else, someone with deep, soulful brown eyes and an angelic smile, someone from a long time ago.

---------------------------------------------

"I'm sorry to have to inform you, David," the police officer was saying, "but your friend Calvin Phillips is dead. It appears that he hit his head on a submerged rock when he fell into the water..."

The voice droned on, asking Hodges if he could remember who had attacked them, but nothing made sense. It was as though he had been thrown into the world of Salvador Dali, and everything was out of proportion or the wrong way round, too big or too small, nothing was as it should be. Conflicting emotions swam through his clouded mind, one minute blaming Calvin for his injuries - if he hadn't kissed him then David wouldn't be here, the next the weight of guilt he felt threatened to crush him - he hadn't moved to save his friend, he had saved himself but not Calvin, he had left him to die... He was a coward. He refused to speak, to the police, to his father who even then was beginning to look ill, to his mother who flew in from Denver especially... woohoo, good old mom... and soon they gave up trying to find out who had done it.

He had counseling, where he was 'encouraged to explore his sexuality', but he refused to listen, and refused to speak about it. When he eventually went home it was to discover that his father had sold the house and they were moving to LA, to 'make a new start'. He never went back to his old high school, and gradually, over weeks and months of burying his head in his books and avoiding talking about anything to anyone, David Hodges blocked the memory of that fateful day completely. And because he had always been a quiet boy nobody realized that he was having a breakdown. His injuries healed, and with them his mind, and soon he was just another geeky kid again, spending far too much time inside and alone and getting laughed at for imagining that Nancy Jenkins might really actually like him. And when he left college with several degrees under his belt, nobody questioned him getting married to Donna, who seemed to be a lot like him - quiet, studious, not very demanding. Perhaps if he had married someone a little _more_ demanding she might have questioned his reticence, his inability to express emotion, she might have forced him to face up to his past a little sooner. But as it was Donna was not that way inclined, and instead of trying to help her husband she chose to run off with his supposed friend from the LA crime lab, who _did_ show her affection. And so it remained hidden, deep within the thick walls that the boy David had built up around his fragile ego.

---------------------------------------------

And now that bastard Greg Sanders had made it all come back, with his beautiful brown eyes and his, _kiss me David_. Why the hell couldn't everyone just leave him alone and stop trying to get through the nice high walls that protected him? He wouldn't think about Greg, because Greg reminded him, and he didn't want to remember. And anyway Greg laughed at him behind his back with his friends, and they all knew by now how Hodges had almost given in to Greg, and if he gave Greg an ounce of ammunition they would know, and then they would beat him again, and this time it would be _him_ under the water.

His mind was in turmoil as he sat frozen to his chair, his heart beating frantically in his chest. He didn't _want_ to remember, he didn't want anything to invade his nice, lonely, _safe_ life, he didn't want anything to remind him that maybe, just maybe, David Hodges _wasn't_ as straight as he thought he was.


	5. Epiphany

Title: Before It's Too Late - Chapter 5

Author: B0gw0ppit

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my dreams, although Hodges does feature in them quite a lot...

Spoilers: Major spoiler for '_Play With Fire'_, Season 3 Episode 22 in this chapter

Warnig: More major angst!

Author's note: In this fic Greg has been a CSI all along, because I started writing with no intention of carrying it on or having a timeline. But now I have a plot and the lab incident is too good an opportunity to pass up so... live with it! lol

_So I speak to you in riddles  
'Cause my words get in my way.  
I smoke the whole thing to my head  
And feel it wash away_

_'Cause I can't take anymore of this,  
I wanna come apart,  
or dig myself a little hole  
Inside your precious heart_

_ Epiphany by Staind_

--------------------------------------------

The day the lab blew up Hodges wished it had been him in there instead of Greg, ans he wished that he had died instead of just being badly injured. At least then the nightmares would go away. Because lately they had been getting worse, and instead of Calvin the boy in the nightmare was Greg, and instead of three nameless faces throwing Greg into the water it was Hodges himself, and instead of running away when he saw what he had done he waded into the lake and held Greg's head under to make sure he was dead. And then the lab blew, and Hodges had a whole new layer of guilt to add to the one that was already weighing him down.

He didn't react when he heard the noise, nor did he move when people started running, but when he saw them wheeling Greg away he stood up as though on automatic pilot to walk out to the ambulance, watching them put him in the back with a blank look on his face. Nick found him there when everyone else had gone, still standing in the same position, still with the same blank look in his eyes, and he carefully steered him back to the empty break room.

Nick assumed he must have been in the vicinity of the blast, and so the first thing he did was insist on looking at his hands to make sure Hodges wasn't injured. That done, he made him a mug of hot, sweet tea, good for shock, and made him sit down to drink it. Nick sat beside him, a concerned look on his face. Everyone always saw Nick as a pretty straightforward kind of guy, and he was. He was also very observant, and very compassionate, and he liked to see the people he cared about happy. Granted, Hodges wasn't one of his favorite lab techs exactly, but he was a human being, and he was in pain, mentally if not physically, Nick could see that, and he was going to see if he could help, for Greg's sake if nothing else. Because despite Greg's protestations, which became more and more resigned every time he tried to engage Hodges in conversation and got nothing, Nick knew that Hodges _did_ feel something for him.

Trouble was, how to begin the process of getting it out of this guy...

"Hodges, I..." he began, but before he could go on the trace tech snapped his head round to look him dead in the eye, and Nick felt a cold shiver down his spine at the desolation of his gaze.

"It's my fault," he said, as though just reaching an important conclusion.

"What?" Nick frowned, lowering his chin a little to study Hodges' pale face.

"It's my fault he's dead," Hodges stated, swallowing roughly, and Nick's frown deepened.

"Who's dead Hodges?" he questioned softly, a small pulse beginning to jump in his jaw. This was getting worrying now, and maybe not about Greg any more.

Hodges looked at him as though he was stupid - nothing new there - but the look in his eyes frightened Nick, for they were empty, bottomless and empty, as though his soul had departed.

"Cal... Greg..." he breathed, the hesitant words coming out in a whisper.

Hodges paused uncertainly, a puzzled frown flickering across his forehead as he blinked once, twice.

"It's all my fault," he repeated softly.

Nick wasn't sure how to handle this, it seemed to be about more than just concern for a co-worker and a well hidden attraction now.

"I'll erm... I'll go get Catherine..." he began. "Or Grissom..."

"No!" A hand shot out and grabbed his arm, hard enough to make Nick wince. "Don't tell, please don't tell."

The frightened, lost look that now graced Hodges' delicate features was worse than the emptiness of before, and Nick watched helplessly as the older man's face contorted with anguish.

"Please," Hodges repeated, still clinging to Nick's shirt sleeve, and the CSI was struck by how childlike that voice sounded. "Please don't let them get me."

Nick knew this went deeper, much deeper, than a determination to appear 'normal' now. Something had happened to this man, something bad.

"Who Hodges... David...?" he coaxed gently. "Who wants to get you?"

"All of them... you... all of you..." Hodges stuttered, confused, his teeth chattering as though he was cold. Then gradually his vision seemed to clear, and he was looking at Nick properly for the first time. "Nick..."

Then with the worse timing in the world Nick's phone rang, and he tutted irritably before he realized it was the hospital. He answered, and listened for a moment, his eyes flickering to Hodges.

"Uhm... Greg's asking for you," he said hesitantly as he closed his cell. "He's a little delirious apparently..."

Hodges' head snapped up at the mention of Greg's name, and he stared at Nick incredulously.

"He's not dead?" he asked, hope shining in his blue eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever to Nick. The CSI shook his head.

"No, he's alive and a little bit bruised but he's ok, and he's asking for you," he repeated, smiling at the tears that sprang to Hodges' eyes. Tears were normal, tears were not the freaky desperation of before.

Hodges drew in a long, shuddery breath and released it slowly through his mouth, blinking as he looked down at his hands.

"But... you were laughing at me," he mumbled, the hurt tone of his voice causing Nick to worry once again.

He frowned. Laughing at Hodges? When? He couldn't remember them joking about the cynical tech for weeks now. He'd done nothing for them to laugh _about_.

"When David?" he asked softly, using his first name again in his concern. "When were we laughing at you?"

"After my birthday, after Greg..." He looked up suddenly, the anger in his gaze causing Nick to lean back a little. "I hope your stupid little joke was worth it. I hope you all got a really good laugh out of it!"

Nick's confusion was obvious as he wracked his brain to think what Hodges was talking about, before it suddenly dawned on him.

"The day after your party, in the locker room... you heard that?" he asked, concern etched on his face. "David it wasn't what it sounded like, believe me."

Hodges snorted a breath of bitter laughter, looking back down at his hands as they twisted in his lap.

"No it wasn't, honestly," Nick continued, reaching out a placatory hand only to see Hodges flinch as though he was going to hit him. He lowered his arm back down to the table gently. "Look, this might be all my fault."

Hodges glanced up warily, but Nick took heart from the fact that he looked up at all, and carried on.

"Greg has not stopped talking about you for months man," he said, shaking his head fondly as a small smile graced his face. "He is totally crazy about you, and I told him I thought you liked him too. I'm sorry if I was wrong..."

Hodges began to protest, and Nick held up a hand to silence him.

"Just hear me out man, ok?" he said firmly. "Then if you still don't like what you hear I'll give you a free punch, I promise."

His smile widened slightly, but again he saw the way Hodges flinched at the reference to violence.

"Look, you do know that we all care about you, don't you?" he asked carefully. "We're _family_, man. We might fight sometimes but we would never see any harm come to you, and nobody would ever question the way you wanted to live your life..."

He was taking a stab in the dark, but he had the feeling that it wasn't too wild a guess. Hodges watched him still warily, but with a slightly less cowed look than before, and Nick ploughed on.

"I told Greg he should approach you," he said, shrugging slightly. "I didn't think you would ever have the confidence to make the first move, but obviously he was a bit too full on for you, am I right?"

Again, the bitter laugh, but Nick saw the tension in Hodges' shoulders relax a little.

"You have no idea about me," the tech intoned darkly. "You don't know me at all."

"Then tell me," Nick encouraged, a pleading look in his eyes. "Tell me why you're so scared David."

Torn... torn between desperately wanting to get it all off his chest, to tell someone about the agony he lived with every day, and the overwhelming conviction that everyone in the world just wanted to make fun of him or kick his head in. He had kept it all bottled up inside for so many years, he didn't even know if he _could_ tell anyone. Hell he'd only just remembered it himself! But Nick had never hurt him, he had always been compassionate and understanding, he poured his heart and soul into every case and he had seen and done things that no one should ever have to endure. In any case if he told him and Nick kicked his head in, well with any luck he would do a proper job of it and David would be free at last. He was tired of carrying this thing around with him.


	6. All Men Must Have Someone

Title: Before It's Too Late - Chapter 6 - All Men Must Have Someone

Author: B0gw0ppit

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my dreams, my dog and my VW Camper.

Author's note: I think Hodges had a bit of a breakdown in the last chapter, but I also think that he needed something quite traumatic to happen to create a catalyst for his fears and his past. Hopefully I can try to pull all this together at last!

_All men must  
have someone,  
have someone  
who'll never take advantage  
of a love bright as the sun  
Someone to understand them  
and you just may be the one_

_I saw when you walked by  
The lovelight in your eye  
And I knew I must try  
To win you more than just a friend,  
I'm starting near the end,  
And I go again _

_ You Just May Be The One by The Monkees_

---------------------------------------------------

Three hours. For three hours David Hodges spoke, leaving nothing out, purging his soul, and at the end of it all he felt as though he had been run over by a truck and put through a mangle. All he wanted to do was sleep. Nick had not moved once throughout all of it, as though to move would be to frighten him away, and then his story would never be known. For himself, Nick was first sympathetic, then shocked, then angry at everything Hodges had gone through when he he was so young, and several times he had to clench his fists to stop himself exploding with the unfairness of it all.

Once he started talking Hodges was surprised at how easy it was to tell, although the telling brought fresh tears to his eyes, tears which he did not bother to quell. They ran silently down his grief-stricken face to soak the collar of his shirt, and it was as though with them all the bottled-up anxiety was washing away too. At the end of it all he looked at Nick silently, waiting for acceptance, or for the blow that he expected. It did not come, but neither did Nick speak, and Hodges began to mentally go through the list of crime labs he could transfer to next. At last the CSI moved, and it was to get up to walk to the sink in the corner, where he took a paper towel from the holder and brought it back to Hodges. David took it gratefully, and attempted to dry his face and neck.

"I have no idea what to say," Nick admitted finally, sitting back down in front of him. "But I'm glad you told me, man. If you hadn't I think this thing would have made you crazy."

Hodges huffed out a small laugh, this one no longer bitter, and screwed the paper towel up in one hand.

"You do know none of it was your fault right?" Nick continued, suddenly wondering if Hodges _did_ realize that fact.

His fears were confirmed when the trace tech shrugged, and Nick slid closer to the front of his seat, leaning his elbows on his knees as he attempted to force eye contact.

"Hodges, look at me." Uncertain blue eyes met his. "_None_ of it was your fault. You weren't to know anyone was watching, or that they would be narrow-minded assholes with zero tolerance for anything they didn't understand. You didn't push your friend in the lake, and there was _nothing_ you could have done to stop them, you hear me? _Nothing_."

Slowly Hodges nodded, and Nick reached out to clap him on the shoulder, hesitating for a moment when he remembered the man's reaction last time he went to touch him. But Hodges looked at him steadily if a little tensely, as though forcing himself not to flinch away. Nick smiled and gently nudged the top of his arm.

"Good," he said softly. "Now, I know someone who would be very pleased to see you if you feel like a drive over to the hospital?"

Hodges hesitated, not sure whether he was ready for that yet, but then Greg's sad little puppy-dog face swam into focus in his mind, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Ok," he nodded, and stood up before he could change his mind.

---------------------------------------------------

Greg was laying on his side looking very sorry for himself when they walked in, his eyes closed and his face a mass of tiny cuts and bruises, but to Hodges he had never looked more beautiful. Nick left the two of them alone, and Hodges sat down by the bed, not quite knowing what to say now that he was here. It wasn't going to be easy, admitting to himself and to others that he wasn't quite as straight as he had always believed, but he had begun the process, taken the first step. Now he just needed the courage to carry on. As he watched Greg's face, long dark eyelashes dusting across too-pale cheeks, a part of him wished they were still at his house, and Greg was lying asleep on his couch, so that they could begin all over again. But he knew that would be no good. If he had given in that night then the terrible suppressed memories of his childhood might never have resurfaced, the issue would never have been faced, and Hodges would never have gotten the chance to be whole again. This was the way it needed to be. It wasn't going to happen overnight, Hodges knew that. It would be a long, hard road fraught with setbacks, and his hang-ups weren't going to disappear just because he had remembered what happened to him. He would probably need that counseling now, but maybe, just maybe, he could learn to trust someone enough not to have to face it alone.

A small hiss of pain from Greg brought Hodges attention right back to the present, and he started forward, concerned. Slowly, deep brown orbs fluttered open to meet Hodges' worried blue gaze, and an angelic smile spread across Greg's pale countenance.

"Hello David," he uttered, his voice croaky as he lifted one hand slowly and painfully off of the bed.

David smiled through a glaze of tears and placed his fingers carefully in the bandaged palm. It would be a long, hard road, but the healing had begun.

Fin


End file.
